somewhere
by lauren lachrymose
Summary: Hold my hand, and I'll take you there.  [oneshot. zutara.]


**A/N: **Inspired by West Side Story. (This is AU, by the way.) I didn't mean for Jet to be the bad guy.  
I'm honestly one of the biggest Jet fangirls EVER.  
But it was either Jet, or Aang. :\

-x-  
-x-**  
**

**i. **something's coming

He could feel it in the air. Not that he would have ever voiced this thought of his – he'd be laughed at, undoubtedly. But he did feel _something_, and that something, whatever it may be, was coming fast. Good or bad, Zuko didn't know. He told himself not to dwell on it, but every morning he'd wake up and _that something_ would be sitting by his window.

"You need to come with us to the dance tonight," the poisonous voice of his sister crept up on him, bone-chilling and sickly sweet all at once. "You haven't gone out with us since mother died. I'm sure you need to brush up on your social skills; hanging around Uncle, playing Pai Sho and drinking tea aren't something a normal Fire Nation prince would do." Her smirk taunted him, curling upward like burning paper.

Zuko scowled and snorted, throwing a piece of bread into the turtleduck pond in front of them. "Are you saying I'm not normal?" He knew he wasn't, but she didn't have to say it.

Azula only continued to smile in that infuriating way of hers, and tactfully avoided his question with a bribe. "Mai will be there. She's wanted to see you for some time now."

He raised his only eyebrow. "She said that?"

"Of course not. Mai would _never _say it directly. But Ty Lee and I both agree that she misses you."

Zuko watched the smallest turtleduck swim away clumsily, and said nothing. If something was indeed coming, he wouldn't catch it by sitting around drinking tea (_that he didn't even like to begin with_). One of his faults was that he often acted on impulse, but this time, it could work out in his favor.

Tossing the last of the bread into the water, Zuko stood, looking his sister square in the eye.

"When does it start?"

**ii. **maria

It was around nine when he saw her. He had been standing around, arms folded (_talk to me, I dare you_) as Mai was being forced to dance with a rather inebriated Ty Lee, and a young girl had walked in with two boys and another girl, all who looked to be around his own age. They entered the room without anyone taking so much as a second glance – the dark crimson hues of their clothes melting into the sea of dancing bodies – but Zuko could've sworn he saw a flash of blue. Then again, it could have been his imagination. He _was _tired, after all.

One of the boys (_the tall one_) had his arm around the younger girl, a cocky grin plastered onto his tanned face. He whispered something in her ear, which made her blush and nod slowly. For some reason, Zuko didn't like the boy. There was just something about him… He had that whole 'I'm a charming bad boy and I get anything I want' thing going for him, complete with artfully messed-up hair and stalk of wheat to chew on. It made Zuko want to punch that smug little smirk right off, so that it fell to the floor with a _splat_.

The other boy (_who looked like the girl, so Zuko assumed they were siblings_) said something to the arrogant prat, and proceeded to laugh and walk away with him, an auburn-haired girl on his arm.

Leaving the young girl alone on the dance floor.

Normally, Zuko would have cared less and started to search for Mai, but something about her intrigued him. She seemed to let everything around her soak in; every word, every gesture, every expression. She seemed perfectly content just watching the couples around her twirl in time to the music, and for some inexplicable reason, Zuko had to desire to know what was going on inside her head. He was under the impression that she had a mind of her own, which was certainly rare in itself.

So it could have been this, or the fact that she looked rather pretty just standing there, but whatever the reason, it didn't explain why Zuko did what he did.

He walked up to her and asked her what her name was.

This shocked him, almost as much as it shocked her. As Azula had stated before, he wasn't exactly social (_at all_), and hadn't even been aware that his feet had been moving toward her. So they stood there in the middle of the crowded room, staring blankly at each other. The silence became so awkward, that Zuko was about to walk away (_and forget it ever happened_), but was stopped by a single word.

"Katara."

He paused, his brow creasing into a slight scowl.

"I beg your pardon?"

The girl smiled slowly, as if trying to keep her lips from moving, but being entirely unsuccessful. "My name is Katara."

His scowl abruptly disappeared, but he didn't return the expression. "Zuko."

And he took a deep bow, turned on his heel, and walked away.

_Katara_.

It was the most beautiful sound he'd heard all day.

"Katara…"

(_up close, he saw her eyes were blue_).

**iii. **tonight

He saw her again later that evening. He hadn't meant to follow her home – it just happened. Mai and Azula had left early, complaining about how they needed their 'beauty sleep' (_although they didn't need it; they knew that they were two of the prettiest girls in Ba Sing Se_). Ty Lee had gone home with some thick-headed, muscular guy (_all brawn and no brains_) around eleven. That had left Zuko alone, with nothing to do.

So he followed them.

Jet (_arrogant prat_), Sokka (_idiot brother_), Suki (_stubborn girlfriend_), and Katara (_just Katara_).

Jet's arm was currently slung around Katara's waist, which stung Zuko with a prick of annoyance. Stupid jerk. He didn't deserve her.

Sokka and Suki said goodnight to the other two, and disappeared through the doorway of the house (_large, for a commoner's dwelling_), leaving Jet and Katara unsupervised.

Well, except for Zuko, of course.

"So, Katara, I was thinking…" Jet began, one of his arms wrapping around her shoulders. "I was thinking that we should go out sometime. Y'know, by ourselves. Just… you and me." He spun her around to face him, taking an unnecessary step closer to her, "Alone."

Zuko grit his teeth. Jet was smooth, he'd give him that.

Katara blushed prettily, and smiled. It was a different smile than the one she had given Zuko earlier that night, although he couldn't place _why_. She stepped back (_good girl_) to put some distance between her and the charming youth, but failed to slap him across the face like Zuko hoped she would. Instead, she continued to smile and said, "You'll have to check with Sokka."

The door shut for the second time, and Jet stood there alone on the doorstep.

If Zuko had been anyone other than himself, he would have laughed right about then. But Zuko was Zuko, and laughing wasn't something he did.

Jet muttered something under his breath, the suave grin wiped completely away, and stalked off in the opposite direction.

Zuko was about to leave as well, but a light turned on and caught his attention. In the window, he could see Katara, already dressed in her night robe (_blue, like her eyes_). She moved around for a bit, shuffling through drawers, until she found whatever it was she was looking for.

Then the room was engulfed by darkness once more.

And Zuko couldn't stand it.

Cursing softly and already regretting what he was about to do, the young man stealthily approached the side of the house that the window was on. Picking up a stone and tossing it up and down in his right hand, Zuko hesitated. What if her brother heard? What if she screamed and called the Dai Li? Then everyone would know that the prince had been stalking some poor girl, and he would be banished (_again_) for causing a scandal. His options weren't looking very good, but before he could think otherwise, he threw the rock through the window.

Nothing.

He didn't even hear the stone hit anything. There was no sign that he had been noticed.

Until the rock flew right back at him, narrowly missing his head.

"Hey!" he called out in surprise, and looked up to see Katara leaning out of the window frame.

"What are you doing here?" She asked warily, the blue carving of her necklace (_she hadn't been wearing that before_) glinting in the moonlight.

Zuko didn't know how to answer her question. What _was _he doing there? No idea. Sorry, you lose, thanks for playing. See you next time –

"I'm talking to you, here!" She whispered fiercely, somehow managing to look intimidating with her hair undone and in her pajamas. He was at a loss as to how she did it.

"I had to see you."

Oh, great. _Those_ were the first words that came out of his mouth? He didn't even know her, for Agni's sake! Now she probably thought he was some stalker (_well, he kinda was, but that was beside the point_).

Wait, did she… was she _blushing_?

"One second," she called down to him, disappearing from the window and reappearing in the doorway a moment later. She pulled her robe around her self-consciously, and softly closed the door behind her. "Okay, so now you see me. What made you come here? Are you out of your mind?"

Zuko shrugged inwardly. Maybe he was. "That guy looked like trouble. I wanted to see if you got home okay."

Katara looked puzzled for a split second, but then realized what he had been talking about. "Oh, Jet? He's okay, really. He just… doesn't know where the boundaries are, sometimes, and why am I telling you this?" Her blue eyes narrowed, "I should turn you in to the police. _You_ seem more trouble to me than Jet does."

Oh, great. Just what he feared.

"You're not calling the police," he said, taking a step forward.

"Oh?" she asked, eyebrows raised, taking a step closer in turn. "Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?"

He was about to say _'the prince of the bloody Fire Nation, that's who!'_, but caught himself. It was better she didn't know who he really was. "For one, I'm stronger than you are. Probably smarter, too. It'd be in your best interest to listen to what I have to say." His voice was cold as he countered her step with a few of his own, until he towered over her (_not unlike Jet had done several minutes ago_).

"Listen, _Zuko_," she began, prodding him in the chest with her index finger, "I highly doubt that you're stronger than me, and there's no way that you're smarter. So why don't you take your grouchy little butt back to whatever sewer you crawled out of, you got that?"

Ouch.

"I didn't come here to be insulted by a bratty girl," snarled Zuko, his hands curling into fists. She was _really _making him mad, now. Stupid peasant.

"Why did you come here at all?!" Katara nearly shouted. She brought up her arms to shove him, but he grabbed her wrists before she could do any damage.

He let out a frustrated yell and pushed her back into the wall of the house, his hands still gripping her wrists tightly. She struggled at first, but quickly found out that she was pinned. For a moment they just glared at each other, faces inches apart; he could feel her heart beat frantically through the thin fabric of her clothes.

"You're possibly one of the most annoying girls I've ever met," Zuko said, his voice a low growl.

Katara rolled her eyes, "Oh, thanks. That means a –"

And before either of them could comprehend what was happening, his mouth was on hers.

**iv. **the rumble

"You kissed my sister."

It was a statement, not a question.

Sokka, Jet, and a gang of boys in green and blue cornered him on an evening as red as the Fire Nation propaganda posters hanging on the walls of the alley. His father's face stared at him, challenging him. (_What will you do now, my son?_)

Pulling out his broadswords, Zuko narrowed his eyes at the young men around him. They had every right to hate him – he was the Fire Lord's son, after all. In their eyes, he was no different than the army that had destroyed their lives.

This was why he hadn't meant to hurt them. Honestly. Zuko may not have been the kindest of people, but he was no murderer.

At least, he didn't used to be.

But as he stared numbly at the blood pouring onto the dirt floor and blending into the reds of his tunic, Zuko didn't know who (_or what_) he was. Not anymore.

**v. **a boy like that

"He is one of _them_!" shouted Suki, angry tears carving scorch marks down her face. Her life, her future had ended in one single moment, all because of _that boy_.

Katara shook her head furiously. He wasn't. He couldn't. He _didn't_. Not Zuko. Not Sokka. _No_.

"He killed your brother, Katara! _He killed Sokka_! How can you just stand there and shake your head as if he isn't a monster?! How can you just stand by and do nothing?! How can you –"

"I love him."

The young girl from the Water Tribe hadn't said it loudly. On the contrary, it had been spoken softly, and uncertainly. Did she love him? Did she, really? This temperamental scarred boy, who she only met a couple days ago?

_Yes_.

She did.

And it hurt. She could feel it like the stab wound he had given her brother – cold and sharp and warm and slippery all at once. He (_prince Zuko_) had hurt her, just as he had hurt Sokka.

So why couldn't she hate him?

**vi.** somewhere

Her life had ended faster than it began.

It ended with a pair of hooked swords, a manic grin, and a single stalk of wheat lying in blood.

So as she knelt there with her love dying in her arms, Katara finally found the hate she had been looking for. Only instead of feeling it toward Zuko, she felt it toward the man who killed him:

_Jet_.

But she could never imagine doing to him, what he had done to Zuko.

"They wouldn't let us be… Is there anywhere… anywhere that we can be together?" the (_handsome, loving_) scarred boy rasped, his golden eyes growing dim.

Katara was unable to respond, for she was choking on her sobs, on the love she never got to give him. Tears rained down on Zuko's face (_growing paler by the second_), and he was glad that he got to die with water surrounding him.

"_Hold my hand, and I'll take you there."_

And as the grip he had on her hand loosened, Katara wanted nothing more than to leave with Zuko, to a place where fire and water could touch without disappearing altogether.


End file.
